


Everything Is Gonna Be Alright (And Other False Platitudes)

by Pastel_Skull_decorating



Category: Avengers
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Shuri (Marvel), BAMF Women, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, Men Are All Idiots At Some Point, Not Canon Compliant, Recovery, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Steve and Bucky Are Stupid, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Wakanda (Marvel), Wakandan Technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-06 10:18:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18849064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Skull_decorating/pseuds/Pastel_Skull_decorating
Summary: What happens when you steal your soulmate from her people? She doesn't speak your language, she doesn't know who you are, and she is afraid of you. How do you get her to like you and want to stay with you? Well, classic love songs, flowers, and candies are out of the picture. Enter two strong independent women, a therapist turned superhero, and octopus-nazi's and just maybe everything will work out. Follow along as Steve and Bucky steal and fall for their soulmate who is protected by several bamf women and a couple of bamf men for good measure.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted Fanfic. Comments are always welcomed, and critiques are encouraged.

Bright lights flash by through the abyss of darkness. The endless road stretches onward, unending, unchanging. I know not how long we have been driving, having been rendered unconscious for most of it. I stare out the front glass trapped between two giant men, both built like warriors. They speak in a foreign tongue. A woman sits in the passenger seat. Her white hair betrayed by the red roots. I know of her, we all did back home. Kaunaz Eiwaz, Fire death, known as such due to the color of her hair and the way death follows wherever she went in the three months she stayed in the village. A man is driving. He is the darkest man I have ever seen, with skin the color of fertile earth. He looks at me through the rear facing mirror and smiles. I do not smile back. I see no point in doing so, these are my captors. My hands bound in some strange metal contraption, they hurt when I move. The blonde man to my left says something to Fire Death. I do not understand, but the way the earth man glances at me with a strange look in his eyes tells me it is about me. I debate asking why I am here, but I know only Fire Death could understand, and I know she does not speak my language well. The dark haired man next to me moves, his right arm coming over my shoulders to rest on the back of the seat. I flinch at the movement then look down, thankful that my hair covers the fear and shame on my face.

The beast makes a turn down a bumpy path, I bounce as much as I am able given the two giants who are next to me. The sun begins to set and I wonder if it means making camp like the hunters would at home. It does not. The earthman brings large jugs out of the back and fills the beast with fuel. I know that this means no stopping in the near future. 

I wonder what they want from me. I am just a girl in the village. I am not one to be stolen, I have no wealth, nor a family name of whom wealth could be gathered. I fear I may not like the answer. 

The dark haired man looks at me and with his left-hand turns my chin up and to the right to look at him. His hand is cold and unyielding, made of what seems to be the same metal that binds my wrists and feet. There is a sorrow in his eyes. He gestures and mimics eating and drinking. I refuse. The man chuckles under his breath before removing his hand to pull something out of his pocket. A black beaded bracelet is placed around my wrist. I shake but remain silent and still. He speaks again but the runes of what he says glow above the bracelet allowing me to read. 

"This is a translator, I speak into my bracelet and it appears in yours and vice vera. Thus we may communicate. Now, you need not fear us, we will not harm you," I read, though I do not believe a word. "Do you need to relieve yourself?" I shake my head in the negative. 

When they took me it was Ostara, on which we fast for three days in preparation for the feast. I have no food or drink in my stomach. We are given water in the morning, but they took me mid-afternoon, nearly an hour before the sun falls. 

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" The man asks. I turn from the floating words and look at him with skepticism in my eyes. Surely this is a test, to see if I would willingly eat or drink, thus they may give me poison later. I shake my head in the negative despite the pain and growing weight of my head, and the growling of my stomach.  
"I know you are, you needn’t lie to me," I look back at him, and for the first time, I speak. "I will not allow you to poison me through food or drink," I speak in my native tongue into the bracelet. The man’s matching bracelet translating my speech into a language he understands. He laughs out loud, causing the others to look at him in wonder. He speaks to them, I assume he is repeating what was said because the earth man laughs while the blond man and Fire Death look at me with respect in their faces.

Fire Death speaks to the dark haired man and he nods. He opens a bar of some kind and bites into it, chewing then swallowing, he then offers me the rest of the bar. Still wary I take the bar and sniff it. I can smell no hint of belladonna or other poisons, thus I take a nibble. The taste is nothing strange, just nuts and honey and a fruit of some kind. I quickly eat the rest of the dry bar. He and I repeat these actions with a clear crinkly jar of water.

The dark haired one nods at me and smiles. I can tell he is proud that I ate and drank. It is with that I fear that instead of death awaiting me as I had thought, a worse fate is to befall me. 

I turn away from him and soon the car moves again this time with the blond man driving, and earth man on the other side of me. He is not as big as blond man, thus there is more room. 

We turn around and travel once again down the endless paved path, with each mile crossed, dread fills my stomach, and prayers fill my head.


	2. Borrowed, Not Stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival in wakanda

We, and by we I mean my captors and I, have been in this beast for ten days. I only know it has been ten days by looking at the floating map showing the elapsed time of our trip. The strange black beaded bracelet of the blonde man shows that we are almost to our destination. I recognize nothing around me, we are far from my home.

I have had nothing but the honey, nut, fruit bars and water from the clear jugs for days. My woolen clothing, perfect for the weather at home, is sweltering in the heat of this dense jungle. I refuse to ask for someone to remove my cloak, too afraid that I would never see it again, or that they would take the pouch I have hidden at my hip. It has been ten days since I have had use of my hands. My ankles have been freed once a day, every day to allow me a five-minute walk around. I assume it is so that I do not succumb to the waking death of the immobile. It has been ten days since I have done my hair or washed my body. I know my braids are beyond redemption, and the sweat gathering on my body means a bath is in order, not that I will be able to find a cool stream in which to bathe near here. I imagine all the water is as warm as the air. 

We pass through another border, the blond one hands a group of leather-bound books to the guard. He looks in on us, Long ago my captors hid the metal binds under my cloak and instructed me to appear to be sleeping at each border. I do what I am asked out of fear. I am too far from home for any hope of being able to return. The stars no longer look similar. We are waved through and enter another bit of dense forest. I raise my head up and Sowulo Mannaz ((sun man) the blond one) looks at me in the rear facing mirror and nods at me. I know I have done what he required. 

Soon we happen upon people, a village not unlike my own. Children chase the beast down the path laughing. We pass corals for large leather covered beasts with horns and armor. This is not like my home, I want to go home. One of the beasts roar, causing me to jump and try to get away. Uruz Mannaz ((power man) the dark-haired one) chuckles and wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer to his side, half turning me so I can hide my face in him. As much as I fear my captors, I fear the leather beast more and hide when another one roars. I know I am shaking yet I cannot care as fear coursed through my system. 

The wise woman in my village always said that fear brought out four instincts in a person, fighting, fleeing, cowering, or copulating. I have always cowered, and here I am still, cowering into one of my captors. 

Thinking of my village saddens me, have they noticed that I am missing? I doubt it. I was the village orphan if I disappeared they would think I was lying dead in the woods, sent on to Hela by a pack of wolves or some such. None would miss me, just as none have wished me well. I am sure that is why my captors chose me to abduct rather than any of the others. 

When I remove my face from Power man’s side I watch as we cross through a barrier. What appeared to be a dark forest soon becomes towering buildings, metal, and new wonders all around me. My mind goes blank with these new sights and sounds. Dizziness besets upon me, I know my face has lost color. I cannot think. I have come too far from home, too far from all I have known in this beast’s belly. 

I know about modern technology. I know this beast rambles through the paths of most the world. I know my people and my village are protected people speaking an ancient language many don’t know. I know we have not adapted with the rest of the world, shunning these modern amenities in order to keep with our traditions. Yet I knew of the rest of the world, of America and glass rectangles called phones, but this, this place is beyond that. This place reminds me of the tales of Asgard, the golden city of the gods. 

Sun Man speaks in the strange tongue that I cannot understand and Power Man looks at me. He is speaking to his bracelet but to the world is tilting too bad that I cannot read. A gentle humming breaks through my addled mind. It is a soft tune, gentle as a brook. It is soothing. Power Man gently lays me against his side, not as I had been, but with my head facing the front glass. The dizziness dissipates slowly and the color in my face returns. Sun-Man nods to Power Man in thanks. I, myself, am thankful for his kindness. 

The beast goes toward the largest hut in this grand village, I can only assume the chieftain lives there. I am afraid of what this means. For what must be the thousandth time, I wonder why they have captured me. I am useful as a slave I suppose, but I am not a tradesman. I don’t know a specific skill that would lead to my sale. I could be for a wife. That thought scares me. I am old enough to marry and bear children. In all my twenty winters I have always imagined marrying for love, not out of force or necessity. I am no good for wealth, as I have none. I speak not the language of my captors, nor of the people in this village. Its tongue passing through the sunken glass with the wind, cooling the still too hot air. I am not as beautiful as the other women in my village. I have no sun-colored hair or blemish free skin. I bear the scars of life. A scar from a wolf attack on my eyebrow, calluses on my feet from walking in the woods barefoot before I found things to trade for sandals. I know not what they require of me, yet have too much fear to ask. 

I sit up, looking into my lap, as we pull to a stop in front of the grand hut. I am afraid to look up. I am gently pulled from the beast; a beeping noise and a sudden rush of blood telling me my shackles are free from my feet. For the first time on this trip, I am thankful for my cloak as it covers my slight frame. I shake in fear of what is to come, yet refuse to look up. I would rather face the oncoming terror with submission rather than defiance. It is one of my defining traits according to the children in my village. 

I am walked up to a multitude of steps and through a set of large doors. This hut is made of smooth stone and metal, with vibrant colors all around reflecting off the polished surface of the stone floor. I feel inadequate to step foot in what I am sure are hallowed halls to the people of this village. My captors and I are greeted by a figure in black, his sandals similar to mine in black leather, and much less scuffed. He speaks in the strange tongue of my captors but with a strong accent. I assume he speaks the language of the village natively and learned the language of my captors later. The man and my captors greet each other joyfully and with merriment. I stand in place, quaking in fear. I cannot look up. I have not the strength. 

The man comes before me, I can see his hands. His skin is darker than Jara Mannaz (the earth man). I know not what this means. The man kneels before me his head coming to my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. I dart mine away quickly. His hands reach for mine and I hear beeping. My hands are free, the rush of blood bringing pain to the previously numb appendages. I do not think, or wonder, instead I run. 

I have never been one to flee, but at this moment I cannot help but run. I run and run and run. I do not go to where I know the large doors are, instead I run and hide behind a pillar by a tapestry. Puffs of breath come in and escape from me as I try to control my breathing. I sink to the ground and hide my face in my hands. Finally, after ten days of constant fear for my life, I cry.

I cry for the life I have lost, for my home. I cry for the knowledge that I can never return. I do not know how to return from this land of unending heat, where the air feels like fire. I cry until I cannot cry any longer. I am out of tears, tired, and still very afraid. I hear people calling for me throughout the large hut. I cannot make my self speak. My throat is raw; I have no words to say. 

Power Man finds me. He does not seem mad, but I do not look at his face. He picks me up and cradles me as mothers do babies. I am returned to the group of captors and the strange dark man. I expect to be hit or flogged for my escape but I am not. I am simply set on the smooth stone. Confused I look up into the eyes of the dark man. His eyes hold nothing but warmth. 

"I know we have taken you far from your home, far from what you have known. I apologize that we could not find a way to negotiate with your people for you, or for your services. I am sorry that we had to steal you from your home. You do not know us, just as we do not know you. My name is T’Challa and I am the king of Wakanda." He speaks and the black beaded bracelet placed upon me nine days ago translates. 

I am even more confused now. What services could I provide, I know no tradecraft. They tried to negotiate for me from my people. I was not aware of that occurring. Nor would I be, most my people do not care for me, and would not care if I were to leave. 

"What do you want from me?" I murmur as his beads translate. 

"Your name is Kara Atlisdottir, and you are the soulmate of two of your captors. He sighs out. Then he continues, Every soul mark is different. When a child is born their soul mark is copied into their medical files. Yours was as well. You disappeared at age three, stolen by your father's people. Your mother had left your village soon after she figured out she was pregnant. In your file is marked down that she didn’t want her child to grow up in the village due to the medical malpractices there. She escaped into the modern world. When you turned three she was murdered, we assume by your father’s people and taken to the village. No one could find you, and you were assumed dead. Natasha, the woman right there went to your village on a mission to find an arms dealer hiding in the village when she saw you. Your soul marks the same as marked in your files and matching two files she had read many times. It was then she told us about you. We knew we needed to find you and bring you. We made sure they didn’t speak to you directly, but rather to a translator so as to allow you time to get used to the idea and learn English."

I sit back and put my head in my hands. I have soulmates, who kidnapped me and took me to this strange country. It’s all too much at once. Looking up I see the faces of Power Man and Sun Man. Both are biting their lips in worry and looking at me with miserable sad eyes. I just stare at them. 

I turn to T’Challa and simply say "I can’t think right now." 

Thankfully he seems to understand. He calls for his sister, a dark woman I learn is called Shuri. She leads me down the hallways and into an alcove in her rooms which are called a lab. She has made them look like a large hut from back home. It has a sleeping palette and dirt floor, the palette is covered in furs and there are protective runes carved into the wood near the entrance. Shuri explains that she had this place made for me out of wood and just built an extra room in her lab so that I would not be alone, and could come out of the hut and straight into the English lessons and modernization classes in her lab. 

"You don’t have to see Barnes or Rogers if you do not want to."

"Barnes and Rogers?" I ask

"Your soulmates. Their last names are Barnes and Rogers. Has no one told you their names, or who they are?"

"No, no ones told me. I think they are afraid to."

"Tall dark and handsome is called James Buchanan Bucky Barnes, but most call him Bucky. He is the winter soldier, an assassin, but he doesn’t do that anymore. He was brainwashed into it. Tall Blond and Patriotic is Steven Grant Rogers, most call him Steve, he is Captain America. A superhero. Both of them are, really. They are stronger than your average humans with a heightened healing factor and both are 98 and 97 respectively. They’ll live a long time."

I have to pause to understand what she just said. My soulmates, the ones who are supposed to be perfect for me, are literally superheroes, nonagenarians, and built to be the perfect humans. I feel more inadequate than when I got here. 

"Thank you Shuri, I think I should retire now. I am tired from all the traveling." 

"Of course, call out if you need anything. I’ll have fresh clothes sent to you. Would you like a lighter version of what you have on, or something different?"

"Just a linen shift and a light overdress, as well as a binder cloth, please. Thank you for your hospitality."

"You’re welcome. It’s nice having another young person around, so many old folks you know?"

"I’m afraid I won’t be much better, I was raised in what equates to the Middle Ages, from what I’ve been told."

"That’s okay, you can teach me about your culture and I can catch you up on the rest."

"I would appreciate that Shuri. Am I to call you princess, your highness, or just Shuri? I am confused as your brother is the king."

"Just call me Shuri. It will be better for both of us, I’ll call you Kara and you’ll call me Shuri."

"Very well, Shuri. Good night, may Frigga smile upon your dreams and bless your marrow."

"Goodnight Kara, may Bast keep watch over you tonight."

She turns back into her lab and I head into my hut. It is bigger than my hut on the edge of my village. My hut was barely big enough for me, this one could easily fit four maybe five sleeping palettes. The furs are soft and warm, yet the lambskin underneath them is soft and cool to the touch but not drastically so, as if they were designed to be comfortable in the hot weather of Wakanda. The dirt floor is comforting under my bare feet, my sandals abandoned by the door. My cloak hangs on a hook by the door, looking so normal amount everything else. I can almost imagine myself back at home with this hut, but strangely I find I don’t want to be back at home. At home, I was nobody, the village orphan. Here I am wanted, at least by two soul matches, and by Shuri. I think she is excited about teaching me culture after I learn enough English. I sit on the sleeping palette and curl into the warm furs and cool soft lambskins, and succumb to the bone-deep exhaustion.


	3. The Truth Will Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara's fears are exposed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this is a WIP I do not have a posting schedule and cannot promise that I will be able to write. I am getting married and tend to work on this at work (I work in the office of a small town auto repair shop, so I have nearly unlimited time to myself).

Weeks have passed since I arrived in this strange country. Thanks to Shuri I have learned enough English to hold a modicum of conversation, and by that I mean I am more fluent than what I have been told of most of America. Shuri’s technology makes it easy to learn. I have been learning Wakandan at the same time so as too “pull pranks” with Shuri. So far I have only been out of the lab for mealtimes and when Shuri wants to show me something. Sun and Power man still watch me with pain in their faces, afraid to speak with me. Shuri and I have kept my progress from them so as to make them feel more guilt until the perfect moment. It feels nice to have a friend like Shuri. 

Through her, I have learned of the men the fates of Yggdrasil have chosen for me. It is funny to think that two American men are destined for me. I have trouble with the technology Shuri keeps introducing to me, though I must admit vines are funny, such a shame it died. Shuri, of course, has learned my language so proficiently so as to speak it with me at dinner so as not to betray our prank. It really is funny if you look at all we have done to ensure people never realize just how fluent I am in English. Shuri figured out how to wear the traditional clothes of my people and started wearing them with her Nike's. She told her brother it was because I was homesick, but she figured out they are pretty comfy. She introduced me to modern bras, rather than binder cloths. I was very happy after my first one. I have never looked back. She and I now have a running commentary about Star Wars during dinner in Ancient Norse about who at the table is which character and whether or not Jar Jar Binks is a Sith Lord or not. It was one of the first movies she showed me. I am now a “Stan”. She loves doing my hair, claiming it is easier to manage than hers, but I think she is just lonely for company and I am afraid that when I do speak to my “soulmates” that I will forget about her. As if men could keep me from my only friend. 

I leave my hut and enter into the lab and smile at Shuri, “What do you think? Should we give them a nibble tonight at dinner?” I ask smirking.

“Ooh, I like the way you think, heavy on the accent to Romanov?” She replies grinning like a mad man

“Perfect, we’ll say you wanted me to speak to someone else to practice.”

Shuri adds, “We can bring her in on the plans too if she catches on.” 

“This is why you’re the genius,” I reply knowing that our seemingly foolproof plan relies on someone else knowing and getting me talking more with the group.

“Plan set, what should we watch today?”

“What is the supernatural show you were speaking of yesterday?”

“Ooh, you’re in for a treat.”

We settle in for a lovely show about two brothers and an angel killing things. It’s perfect.

⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘

 

Soon enough we are heading to dinner ready for plans to be put into action. On the DL Shuri messaged Romanov through the kimono beads and asked her if I would be allowed to speak with her during dinner to get some practice speaking to someone other than Shuri or the AI. Romanov agreed and said she was honored. So far has agreed to try to keep it within the women around. Plus Romanov was in my village for a while and I would have some previous knowledge of her. I think Shuri is trying to make the men think I am scared of men, not that I am upset with that, but rather that I am wishing she had included me in that part of the plan. 

When we enter the dining hall we see Romanov in the middle of the table with two empty chairs opposite her and she is glaring at the two supposed soulmates trying to sit there. Looking over she sees us and waves us over inviting us in Wakandan to sit with her, Shuri, of course, translates into Norse. We readily accept.

Dinner is soon underway and Shuri and I are beginning to slip in some English into our debate, easy words: and, like, same, food, and yum. Eventually, I turn to Romanov, “Hello, Ms. Romanov, how was your day?” I ask in heavily accented English, purposefully mispronouncing a few words so as not to give up the ruse. 

Speaking slowly she replies, “My day was busy, how was yours?”

“My day was filled with learning. May I ask what you were doing that kept you so busy?” I say looking at Shuri for filled and Learning, she mouthed them to me as we practiced.

“You may,” Romanov replies, “I was training with the rest of my team, then I advised T’Challa on some political matters he asked me about.”

I turn to Shuri, “Political, I do not know this word.”

She translates it into Norse, and a wave of understanding passed over my face, completely faked, but still. 

Romanov continues, “You are learning quickly.”

“Shuri helps me a lot with words. English is hard, but I hope to make her proud.” I reply smiling at Shuri.

“Kara is doing a lot better, and improves every day.”

We hear a scoff from down the table and look to see the blond…Rogers, recovering from hitting The other one…Barnes’ shoulder. I stand up and make my way over. The tension is palpable as the soulmates converge.

“Excuse me,” I say in perfect British, “do you have any idea how hard it is to act as if I am speaking in accented English so as to give myself a little more time before you two steal me from the only friend I have ever found in order for you to fulfill what I am sure are the countless unspeakable acts that you kidnapped me for, no? Then please don’t scoff at my near perfect acting, or I will borrow one of Ms. Romanov’s many blades and make sure to remove your precious jewels from your living bodies. I believe Shuri would help me as we both know that the longer I take to learn English the longer I am able to stay in Wakanda and not be put back into cuffs, taken halfway across the globe again, and expected to become your little wife so that you two can stop pretending not to be practicing unsafe sex on every surface in your guest rooms, but so you will no longer feel your Catholic guilt at having urges for another man, by placing a virgin woman between you both, not caring if she is willing or not, since the fates gave her to you. Thank you.” 

Walking back to Shuri is say, “I am afraid I find myself without an appetite, please excuse me.”

With that, I leave the dining room, leaving many gaping faces behind me. Before I get too far ahead I hear Romanov say, “Wow, you two really are assholes. Find your own way out of this one.”

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Romanov and Shuri walk into the lab and over to my hut. Knocking they let themselves in. 

“Dude, that was awesome, we could not have planned that better,” Shuri exclaims hugging and offering me a big smile.

Romanov continues, “That was excellent, and if needed, you may borrow one of my knives anytime, I’ll even help.”

“Thank you, Shuri and you Ms. Romanov,” I say unable to say anything else as I have no words.

“Please, call me Natasha, or Nat.”

“I will.” I reply, “Call me Kara.”

She nods in agreement before continuing, “You obviously have not been learning English for a while, what have you been doing here?”

“Watching tv shows and movies, listening to music, planning epic pranks, keeping up with memes, and planning my escape from dumb and dumber.”

“Escape?”

“What I said tonight is an actual fear. I was not given the choice to come willingly, and if offered, I probably would have. I am not going to let them do it again, or take something I am not ready to give to them, or anyone. Before I do anything with them Shuri and I have to have a way to get me out if the situation turns bad. We already implanted me with a nanite tracker and sub-dermal miniaturized kimono beads as well as training me in several forms of self-defense, but we still have no way to stop the situation from turning bad. They could still find a way in here and take me again without anyone knowing. I trust the technology, but I don’t trust them more. There is no telling what they would do. Aside from dinner, I do not leave the lab without Shuri and her armed guards, for the specific fear of them and their allies deciding that I have had enough time to learn and handing me to them without giving me any kind of say. Even in my village women are given the choice of who to marry, if they want to marry, and to divorce, soul-bonded or not. I am simply afraid of what they could do to me. I am considerably weaker than them and will never be as strong. I do not have a super serum running through my veins giving me strength. They could force sex upon me and I could not stop them if they decided to take it whether I wanted it or not. There is nothing Shuri and I can do to protect me from that. It is simply an impossibility.”

“While I do not think that as a possibility, we have given you no reason to think otherwise. You were stolen, bound and taken very far away without any knowledge as to who we are or what we wanted. Your fears are not unfounded, but you have an ally in me. They will do you no harm or I will harm them in equal measure. If they do rape you, I will take one of my many knives and rape them with it. Do not live in fear, if needed, Shuri and I will get you far away from them and never tell them where you are,”

“Thank you, Nat, I appreciate it. And thank you Shuri, you have been a rock through all of this.”

The AI interrupts, “Ma’am’s, the males are known as dumb and dumber are currently seeking access to the lab.”


	4. Boys will be boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dumbbutt twins know they have messed up, but do they know how to fix it?

“Protocol Hide and Hear activated, passcode ‘vetsdontscareme0622’” Shuri says to the ceiling.

“Protocol initiated.”

The lab turns to normal as my hut sinks into the ground and floor covers above it. I can see and hear everything due to monitors and microphones. Shuri really had thought of everything. A couch appears above my head and Nat sits on it, looking as if she’s just been relaxing with Shuri. The door opens at Shuri’s word. 

Gleaming metal and pale skin enter the lab looking contrite. Their eyes search wildly around the room, no doubt searching for me. Both seem disappointed when they don’t see me. Hidden I smile. 

“Shuri, we didn’t mean it. He scoffed at how awful she sounded and was trying to hold in a laugh. We didn’t mean for her to go off. We had no idea her fear was as bad as it was.” Barnes pleads. “We would never do something so terrible to her, please, we just want to apologize to her.”

Strangely it is Natasha who speaks up, “You have to realize something here boys. We took Kara from everything she had ever known, from her home. We spoke a language she could not understand, and drove her in a car, which she had never seen before, across half of the world. The fears she has are not unfounded. Shuri has been the only friendly face she has seen that had any idea what it would take to gain her trust. Shuri has gained her trust and was trying to let Kara put her trust in me by testing me. You both screwed it up. When I got down here she and her room were gone. We don’t know where she is. Thanks to you two dumbasses we have lost your soulmate. We may have stolen her but she was warming up to Shuri, now we don’t know if she will ever come back, or if she is safe. You two will not be looking for her either if she sees you there is no doubt that she will run even farther and possibly end up dead. You two had better hope that Shuri and I can find her, and you two had better start working on apologies for her. They had better be good apologies too.”

The men with faces now downcast nod in agreement knowing that Natasha is right. I find all of this to be quite funny and know that Shuri, Nat and I will be playing back the video to watch and comment on later while plotting my hidding from everyone for a couple of days to let the boys stew. I cannot help but have to hold in laughter as Shuri starts in on them in Wakandan, letting her anger be known as she calls them “idiotic man-whore colonizers” and “good for nothing gun toting ken dolls”. Both insults making me need to laugh even harder, but knowing that I really shouldn’t due to my position in hiding. Luckily Natasha has no such qualms. Her melodic laughter floats down to me a mirror of what I wish mine could sound like. 

Both men, now suitably chastised in many languages sulk out of the lab, presumably to work on figuring out how to apologize to me when Shuri and Nat “find” me. The doors to the lab close with a soft whoosh and are promptly locked and turned opaque. My hut raised out of the floor as the couch disappears and I rise with it, my cackling unable to now be held back and completely uncontrollable. Nat and Shuri soon join me in the ruckus of laughter and all of us fall to the floor in a mess of limbs and appendages laughing all the while. It just makes us laugh more. The stress of the day and anger wash away from un in the healing chuckle we have all similarly adopted. Natasha, of course, is the first to gain control of herself as Shuri and I continue to laugh.

Finally, Shuri and I run out of energy to laugh and clutch our sides as we have pain from laughing too much. Natasha looks over at us with humor in her eyes, and a soft smile on her face, I realize that this is the first time I have seen her smile. 

I turn to her, having now come back to my senses. “Natasha, why did you say I had run? Will you not now have to go off to ‘find’ me. Could the kimono beads not work as a tracker? Even aside from all the ones that only you know Shuri put in me?”

“Oh Kara,” she says, the soft smile returning, “I cannot help but see you as a child, one I have now adopted into my family. So by saying that you had run, I was telling them in code that you were mine to protect and would return to the dinners when we see fit. I see you as mine, Shuri too. While I would love to be able to keep you locked away and safe from all males, I know that eventually you will get curious about your soul mates and want to get to know them. By telling them to apologize, I was telling them to not only give you time, but assuring them that you would want to get to know them eventually, but on your terms, not their’s. While it is true that your fears are not unfounded I know that they would do no such things unless you were comfortable with them. It was also a way to easily let them know that they are not the only ones who want you. I have a friend, Clint Barton, who if I called would find a way to get here and help me in whatever I needed, including getting you to a safe place. While that would probably end up being his farm in Iowa, it would still be safe. I keep my family safe, whether they know they are family or not. I used to consider Rogers and Barnes family, but after what they convinced us to do in kidnapping you, and placing those fears in your heart, they have left my family and will have to earn their places again. Should it become needed, I would kill them for you. Superpowered or not, I know how to kill them both.”

I am overcome by the thought of Natasha Romanov, otherwise known as the Black Widow, Kaunaz Eiwaz, cares for me. She claims me as family. I do not know how to tell her that no one has ever claimed me as family before. That I do not know how to be a daughter, a sister, and barely know how to be a friend. She reaches out to touch my face and I realize that I am crying, that her words have touched me so completely that I have a physical reaction to the emotions she brought about. Natasha wipes away the tears and I am pulled against her body in a fierce hug. I can hear her heartbeat and feel her muscles keeping me against her. From behind, I feel Shuri joining in the reassuring embrace that is proving to me just how much I am wanted here. 

“I have never been someone’s family before,” I whisper out, still encased in the four arms around me.

“That is okay, дочь, we will teach you,” Natasha replies just as quiet. [Daughter]

Shuri tightens her hold on the both of us while saying, “Kara, you are my sister, Nat, you are my family as Kara is yours. I guess that means I have two mothers now.” 

We all laugh a bit at that and slowly, reluctantly we release our holds on each other. A soft smile falls upon my face. I actually have a family now, I have people who want to be around me. The children in my village were wrong. I do have a family, I just had to get kidnapped to find them. It is strange to me now. My village does not feel like home. I do not want to return as I once did, I do not long for the wood walls and soft grass. I want fire red hair and black twin buns. This is my home now, not the village where I was not truly wanted. I look to Shuri and Nat knowing that I would fight with all of my heart for this family we have made. 

“How much time should we take before telling the boys that I am ready to meet with them?” I ask, a little shake in my voice.

Nat thinks a moment, “Perhaps we should wait a week. I will take my meals here, and we will have girl time. Let the men stew for a bit.”

“That is a solid plan, make them quake before giving them the inch they want.” Shuri agrees.

With that plan in place, we all agree to put on our pajamas and have a sleepover.


	5. Just Have Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter today, I am hoping to get another one out this week if I hadn't separated the chapters this chapter would have ended up being about five times longer with no decent stopping point in order to move forward with major plot points. I admit that this is mostly a filler chapter, but there are some important additives in here that will help with the next chapter and in understanding where some of what is to come is coming from.

We have been avoiding the dumbest twins and their shadow of Sam Wilson for just under two weeks now. From the CCTV cameras placed around the castle and it’s grounds Shuri, Nat, and I have been simultaneously laughing and yelling at the videos of the Dumbbutt twins. They sulk around the castle as if someone kicked, ran over, killed, reanimated, stabbed, and shot their puppy. It’s really sad, to say the least.

One would have thought that they would have realized they need to properly apologize and come with flowers and chocolate and heartfelt words of repentance. It hasn’t happened. It’s not that we want them around us, as we have been avoiding dinners choosing instead to eat here (I cook, those two are not allowed near a stove ever again) so as to not have awkward silences as everyone would be walking on eggshells, but the fact that they run the opposite direction whenever they realize what hallway they are about to enter, the one leading to the Lab, is just sad. I thought these were supposed to be the “heroes of the world” not small boys running from cooties. Though, to be fair, I do cry myself to sleep at the thought that my soulmates can’t even speak to me. I know they each have a long berating paragraph somewhere on their bodies, and I have read my soul marks over and over again, but it isn’t the same as having them said. The knowledge that they are avoiding me or anything to do with me, hurts. I am avoiding them and Yes I know the hypocrisy of the statement, but I said what I said, and did what I did. They stole me from my home, the only place I had ever known, the only people I had known, and now they can’t even look at me or anything to do with me? It hurts more than I tell Shuri or Nat. I don’t want them to force the boy's hands. 

Still, though, I lay awake at night wondering who says what mark and hoping for a future with them. How could I not? My soulmates stole me away and have yet to speak to me, is it too much to ask for a happily ever after?

I was just about to wallow in self-pity when I remembered something I had read about Sam Wilson. He is a therapist, thus due to the oath he swore could not tell anyone what I would say to him. Pulling up his contact info on my Kimono beads, I set about a video call.

“Hewo?” His raspy sleep filled voice comes from his face squeezed in pain against the sudden light from his beads.

“Mr. Wilson? It’s Kara the girl you all stole?” I say my voice questioning if he was awake enough for this conversation.

“Oh, right,” he pauses, “what can I do for you?”

“I heard you were a therapist and was hoping you could help me work through some of my overwhelming emotions. I am tired of crying myself to sleep over things I cannot control.” I say my voice belaying how terrible I feel.

“I’m willing to help, what do you need from me?”

“I need your assurance that whatever I tell you unless stated off the record is never going to go past your lips. I need someone to help me work through some childhood trauma, newer trauma, and the storm of emotions that are running through my mind. For once in my life I need help, and I am asking for it.”

“I can do that, when do you want to do this?”

“Tomorrow? With more sessions if needed?” I ask afraid he will say no.

“How’s two o’clock? I can meet you outside the lab and we can talk in the office T’Challa gave me to work out of.” 

My system is flooded with relief and I know Wilson can see it, as a soft smile graces his face, “That will be wonderful, thank you, Mr. Wilson.”

“Call me Sam,” he smiles.

“Then I am Kara to you,” I reply, for once in the month that I have been here feeling as if I truly can overcome this.

“Thank you, Kara, I will see you tomorrow.”

“Good night Sam, I am sorry for having woken you.”

“It’s no problem, get some rest if you can too.” He says looking concerned. I know he is looking at the bags under my eyes and the tiredness that is ever-present in my body.

“I will try. May Frigga look upon your dreams and smile upon you, Sam.”

“May God grant you peaceful sleep tonight as well Kara.” 

The call ends and I feel the sweat rising in my palms and a headache coming to me. I know I need rest and to not worry. Laying my head only pillow I think of anything I can to distract myself from the raging emotions inside of me, from counting sheep to reciting poems, nothing seems to be working. Eventually, I just lay here and think, hoping to succumb to the blessed sleep of Frigga.

⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘⌘

Lunch today is a somber affair. This morning I told Shuri and Nat what I did, and who was helping me with my mental health. I told them off my plan to sneak info to the Dumbbutt twins through certain off-the-record tea spilling in order to force them to come to apologize. I told them how I had been crying myself to sleep, how I had been completely emotionally overwhelmed and had yet to really get over being kidnapped. I told them how much I appreciate their friendship, and how I really do see them as family, but now I need someone outside of my circle to help explain my emotions and understand with confidentiality what I had been through in my own words rather than someone's conjecture. It was a tearful conversation and I know that both of them are proud and scared for me. 

Nat is the first to break the heavy silence, “Do you want us to walk you to his office and pick you back up?”

“No,” I reply after thinking about it a moment, “I think I need to do this on my own. Plus who knows how long he and I will be talking.”

“Very well. If you need anything you call us, you understand?” Nat says, looking every bit the worried older sister she is.  
“I will, thank you both for trusting me enough to let me do this”

“You’re welcome,” Shuri whispers out. I can see the wheels in her head turning, trying to find where she went wrong.

“Shuri,” I say grabbing her attention, “it isn’t anything you’ve done wrong. There is no magical formula that will appear out of thin air in order to solve my emotions. They aren’t a math problem or a science equation that is possible to be answered. This is simply me going to the person best equipped to deal with the situation without allowing personal attachments and relationships to skew the results. When I want to complain I come to you and Nat because you both will take my side no matter if I am wrong or not, and I will do the same for you. However, this, it isn’t something I need someone on my side for. This is something I need someone who will look at the situation and tell me that I am justified in feeling that way but also tell me to think of the emotions of other people in order to work through the trauma and events. This is me recognizing that I am not as okay as I thought I was and getting the help I need before the Dumbbutts get their heads out of the sands and come wanting me. This is me making sure that I am ready to do what you and Nat have been helping prepare me for. I am not replacing you as best friends, Sam and I have a work relationship and until I know that he is completely trustworthy then he will not even be seeing me outside of the sessions. I still will need you and Nat, if for nothing more than for the fact that you are my family. The first family I have ever had, but still my family. Family doesn’t back out on Family. Besides, who else am I going to make meme references and quote vines with?” 

Shuri laughs and nods, apologizing she admitted that she needed the reassurance and was glad that she wasn’t losing me. We laughed together and all came together as friends in a group hug before they sent me on my way to see Sam.


	6. Life Is An Emotional Rollercoaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I was able to cut this chapter down a bit, but it is still one of the longest. Thank you to those who have read this far. Please let me know what you think the Dumbbutts should do for an apology as I am still having trouble on that point.   
> I would also like to state that I know nothing of mental health aside from what Google, one college psych 101 class, and a couple of years in therapy have given me.

Walking up to the door I regret not having Nat and Shuri to ease my fears. They would have kept the walk light and happy, filled with laughter. Instead, with each step, the walls seemed to get bigger and closer to me. I cannot bring myself to knock, yet I cannot bring myself to walk away and forget about it because I know that I need this. 

I am startled out of my introspection by a laugh from behind me. Forgetting I am in a safe place, and not back home in the village where a sound like that meant trouble coming. Quickly, I react. Swinging around my fist connects with the face of the person as I duck down to the ground and ground sweeps their legs from under them. I land with my knee to their chest and a Knife to their throat before I can even think. A hand touches the back of my neck and I just react. Slamming the hand against the wall with the hand not holding the knife. I turn keeping my knee on the person's chest and kick the newcomer’s balls with my leg before grabbing them into a choke hold and placing the knife against the newcomer’s neck. 

A clapping noise breaks through my clouded mind and I see Sam Wilson leaning against the wall, presumably having watched me take down who I now realize are Barnes and Rogers. 

“You did well. You took them down clean and efficient without allowing yourself room for much damage to you. I would like to know where you learned how to do that though,” Sam says still leaning against the wall. 

“This is not the first time I have had to defend myself. I learned in the village and had no one to teach me. Shuri helped refine my technique and Natasha has added different styles to what I have learned. We train two hours every day in different types of combat, environments, and situations. We prepare ourselves for the worst possible and have contingencies for every situation. Due to them, I am now proficient at firearms and rifles, archery, throwing knives, and stun batons. I keep at least four knives on me at all times and I am prepared to escape any situation I am placed in using any weakness I can find in any opponent.” I recite. There is no emotion in my voice and no light in my eyes. I have yet to release the men I have pinned. They could get out if they wanted to, but I think they don’t want to hurt me in order to do so.

“Well, it’s good that you are able to defend yourself. Why don’t you let Steve and Bucky up and you and I can go into my office and have our chat?” He asks. I can hear the placating tone in his voice. I know that he is slightly afraid that I will cut Barnes’ throat with the knife placed there. I can see his hand twitch to where I know a service weapon is hidden. I can feel Rogers breath hitch under my knee as he realizes that Sam is having to talk me down.

Without responding I release the men. Barnes reaching his hands out to stop his fall sighing in relief when my knife is hidden back up my sleeve and into its sheath. Rogers gets up off the floor and holds a hand out to Barnes. Barnes takes it, both staring at me in a mix of awe and fear at me. 

Sam opens his office door holds it for me. Following him in I enter and watch as the door is shut on two men staring at me. 

“Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable. Would you like anything to drink? I have water, tea, and apple juice,” he says. I know he is trying to distract me or snap me out of this weird mental state I seem to have found myself in.

“I am fine, I ate before I came. Thank you though.” I reply, sitting gracefully in an armchair with a view of the door and anywhere Sam would be in the room.

“Very well. Why don’t we start with why you attacked Steve and Bucky?” He says sitting on the couch in front of me.

“I was nervous about our appointment. Aside from last night, I had never spoken to you nor had I asked Shuri and Natasha their opinions of the matter. I hadn’t told them many of my feelings at all actually. The first time I let anyone know a semblance of what I was feeling was when I went off on Barnes and Rogers at dinner. While walking here the walls felt like they were suffocating me and closing in on all sides. I had been standing in front of your office door for several minutes unable to knock and see if you were there. I had been paralyzed with fear. A woman in my village always said that there were four ways of dealing with fear…Fight, Flight, Cowering, and Copulation. I have always cowered in the face of fear. When Rogers laughed behind me My body reacted in the way Natasha and Shuri had trained it to. I stopped thinking and my body fought to protect me. It was as simple as muscle memory. When Barnes tried to grab my neck, again I just reacted. My brain wasn’t thinking, my body just fought to subdue my attackers and either get them to leave me alone or hurt them enough not to chase after me if I ran. However, due to my previous mental state, I was unable to make such a decision and thus just held them there. I assume I disassociated, but I am not sure. I have only been researching mental health for a couple of weeks now.” I say, finally forcing my body to relax and bringing myself back to the forefront of my mind.

“That is understandable. From what I could tell it did seem like you were disassociating or at the very least hiding behind a mask of indifference. The fact that there is muscle memory to protect you is a good thing, I won’t argue that. Let’s talk about why you were nervous about our meeting.”

“For one, I have never actually met you. There was no proper introduction, no polite nods of heads in hallways and you are always with them. Plus you helped kidnap me. There are many reasons for which I could be scared of meeting you. I couldn’t trust you. I don’t trust you outside of what I know your oath requires of you. I don’t trust you not to throw me to the Dumbbutt twins hanging outside your door as soon as we are done here. I don’t trust you not to try to use these sessions to talk them up and try to get me to approach them. I don’t trust you to actually help me get into a better mental state rather than leaving me emotionally and mentally weakened so that the Dumbbutts can use that as a way to get me to trust them. In short, I don’t trust you, I have been given no reason to. However, I also recognize that you are the only person with enough previous knowledge in order to help me put my brain and emotions to rights.”

He thinks for a moment, I know he is digesting what I have said and thinking about his response very carefully. “I can understand your reasoning behind the nervousness. I know that words are not enough for you to put your trust in and that I am sure both Shuri and Natasha have proven themselves by actions to earn what trust they have. I would like to think that in time I will earn your trust, but I am willing to admit that you may never trust me, just as you may never trust any of us.”

“You stole me. I was content, not happy mind you, but content. I knew my place and what I had to do to survive. I did survive. I survived rape and abuse and harassment. I survived being a four-year-old left alone with no family in a village where smallpox breaks out every couple of years, where the flu kills people, where polio is a real and rational fear. I survived men in my village trying to force me into a marriage, trying to make me into a servant, and trying to just force themselves upon me. I was a survivor and had the grudging respect of my people. They may not have liked me but at least they left me alone. I hunted for my food and cooked for myself. I needed no one and no one needed me. You stole that. You and those two Dumbbutts and Natasha stole my life from me. My independence from me. I rely on Shuri for clothing and a place to stay. I rely on M’Jala to show me around the castle. I now have to rely on you to help fix what you helped to cause. I never asked to be here. I was never asked if I wanted to be here. This modern world says that they respect all people the same but when it came down to it you four went Neanderthal in order to give two of them a soulmate. Look how that turned out, They haven’t spoken a word to me and I held a knife to their throats.” By the end, I am yelling. Tears dripping down my face as I finally put into words half of what had been running around in my mind. 

I continue, having taken a second to breathe, “I am terrified. I am terrified that I will like them. I am terrified that they will decide I am not for them. I am terrified that they won’t care if I want or love them but that they will take what they want. The stole me, what’s to say that they won’t take my body without my consent. What's to say that they don’t already regret not leaving me in that village to die of disease and malnutrition. More than all of that, I am terrified that I’ll go back. That I will be forced to have to run away and go back to my village. I am so scared that this new modern world I have been introduced to, will disappear. That when they don’t want me anymore, when I am too much trouble, I will be put back in cuffs, back in a car, and back to my people. I didn’t ask for this but I adapted very well, I learned an entirely new language in less than a week and can speak it with more proficiency than most college-educated adults. I can discuss the undertones of Shakespeare in children literature and entertainment. I have watched television and moves and learned about cultural trends like memes and vines. I can explain colour theory in commercials. I am terrified that this new knowledge that I have been given will disappear, but more than that, I am afraid I am losing myself the more I learn. 

“My religion is based upon myths that recently have turned out to be true. I have learned so many things about so many events and people and places, that I can’t help but wonder, who am I. I am no longer the scared girl from the village in a big new world. I am no longer the devotee of Frigga. No longer do I offer her half of my meal or prayers. I am losing myself to this world around me and I am scared that the girl who was their soulmate is no longer me. I am so different than who I was a month ago, two weeks ago even. I enjoy pranks where before they would have gotten me flogged in the square. I enjoy leisure time where before I could not afford to take a day off or an hour off if I wanted to eat or have a place to sleep. I enjoy technology and faster ways of doing things that would take days, where before the rest of the world seemed so odd and wrong. Now I am odd and wrong. I am no longer me.”

He ponders for a long moment before finally speaking, “We did steal you, we took you from all that you have known. We were wrong to do so and for that I am sorry. I cannot imagine what you had thought while bound in the car as we crossed the continents, and I am sorry. I am sorry that we did not think long enough to consider an alternative. I am sorry that we did not ask you, that we did not consider how you would take all of this. There is nothing, absolutely nothing that can take back all of the pain and suffering we have caused you. I wish there was but there isn’t, and for that, I am sorry too. I know that sorry isn’t good enough for what you are going through. The fears you have are justified because we have given you no alternative way to think. There are better ways of going about what we did and we all should have known that. There is nothing that I can say to make this better. Most of what you have described to me only time will heal. Time and us proving that trust is something that we are worthy of. 

“As for the Dumbbutts I believe you called them, they have to account for what they have done. From stealing you to making you feel unworthy and mocking you they need to make it right. How they will do that I don’t know. Let me ask you this, what do you want to happen about them?”

I pause. I had never thought about that. What do I want from them? “I have never thought of that before,” I say, “but now thinking about it, I want them to apologize for mocking me when the reason I was faced to do any of it was because of them. I want them to realize that their actions have consequences. I want them to say my words. I want them to make me want to try to have a relationship with them. The fates chose them for me, whether I believe in my religion or not, they were chosen for me. My words are etched across their skin marking them as mine. I am marked as theirs. There must be something that makes us compatible. Something that is redeemable about them. I want to not have been stolen for no reason, and you can tell them that.”

“Really?” He asks looking surprised, “You want me to tell them that you want them to speak with you, to get to know you?”

“Yes, I want to know if there is something there, or if I am nothing but a trophy to be kept in a castle and never touched.”

“I will tell them. Shall we meet again tomorrow?” He asks looking hopeful. 

“Sure, but come over for dinner tonight in the lab, I making lasagna, and we are planning dumb and dumber’s demise.”

“I’ll be there, anything I should bring?”

“Just yourself, but if you want to bring dessert we wouldn’t be opposed. I can’t make desserts, and the other two are awful anywhere near a kitchen unless its preparing ingredients, and even then only with supervision.”

Sam laughs. It is a loud but soothing sound as if just his laughter could brighten any room.

“I’ll see you at six then,” he opens the door for me and the wonder twins quickly rise from the floor. 

I wave goodbye to Sam and ignore the two others as I make my way down to the lab quite ready to see what dinner brought to the scheme.


	7. Fake It 'Till You Make It

Time is a funny thing. After the therapy session, Sam had come over bringing brownies and ice cream to eat with my lasagna and slipped me a note saying that he had told the boys what I had told him. Sam and I met each day for two hours for five days. Today, however, Sam said that we were going to do something different. Thus, I am meeting him out on the lawn in front of the castle. 

“Ah, Kara, there you are,” Sam says smiling as I approach him.

“Yes, Sam, here I am,” I reply, wondering why I am meeting him here.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me here. I know you are curious as to why.”

“I am, but I also trust you.”

“Thank you for that. I know our sessions have been focussing on your life after the kidnapping but I have noticed that you tend to put yourself down when you refer to yourself and focus on the mistakes you make. So I want us to sit out here in the sunlight and I want you to tell me exactly what you think about yourself.”

My mind blanks. Why does he want to know what I think about myself? He wants to know how my scars mean I will never be beautiful, how the words of my people bounce around in my head, how I can never look at my calloused hands and say that they are worthy of holding someone else’s, how despite the words on my skin I do not believe I can be loved?

“No.” I say finally breaking the silence. It is the first time I have ever refused to tell Sam anything.

“Why not?” He asks his eyes staring into mine as if looking into my soul.

“I did not ask for your help in going through my confidence. I asked for your help in putting my mind at rights again. Confidence has nothing to do with that.” I reply silently pleading to any god that would listen to let him leave it alone, knowing that as soon as he presses I’ll tell him everything. I would never recover from that.

“I know, but confidence will help with putting your mind at rights again. So, what do you think about yourself?” He asks again. Somehow I know he will not ask again and will get it out of me somehow. 

Sighing, I look down and I begin, “I don’t think of myself all that often. I never had time to as a child, I had to be focused on survival instead. I had no parents to guide me, no friends to support me, I had nothing but myself. I survived. As I got older, however, I learned how to survive easier and started to have more downtime. That meant more time to think. It meant more time to look at my scars from surviving and hunting and fighting off men, it meant more time to watch the other girls in the village pretty themselves up to walk around town attracting men to their sides for their every whim, it meant more time wondering why I hadn’t ever been considered pretty. I was sixteen the first time I looked in a mirror. I was sixteen the first time I saw the scars marring my face from the wolf I had to fight at ten years old. I was sixteen the first time I looked at my self and found that I was underfed and that it showed. I knew I was always hungry, but I didn’t think anyone else could tell. I thought that if they could see surly they would have helped me. I was wrong. I was sixteen when I learned that It didn’t matter what I thought the world was like I was wrong. People are not kind, they are not nice. I was sixteen when I realized that I had been forced to fight off men's advances not because I was beautiful, but because they saw me as an easy target. I was sixteen when I learned to hate myself. I was sixteen when I gave up on trying to live but rather just survive. I was sixteen when I stopped fighting the men off and just let them take what they wanted. I was sixteen when I stopped caring about what happened to me. I was sixteen when I started eating half of what I had been. I was sixteen when I resigned myself to die, alone, uncared for, unwanted, and unloved. I was sixteen when I learned that a blade to skin felt good. I was sixteen when I realized that death would be the only way out. I was sixteen when I tried to die for the first time. I was seventeen when I realized I was numb and even pain didn’t make me feel anything. I was eighteen when the only thing I fought was being owned, they could use my body if they could find me, but I would not let myself be tied to one person. I was nineteen when I let myself get mauled by a wolf again, just to feel something. I was twenty when I was stolen and brought here and forced to feel again. I don’t like it, I want to go back to hating myself and wanting to die. Instead, I’m worried about the Dumbbutts and what they would do if I tried again. I just want to die and let this all be over.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until Sam’s hand came up and wiped the tears away. I finally look up at him and see no pity in his eyes, but rather respect and pride.

“I am sorry that you had to go through that, however, I am so proud of you for surviving everything you have been through. I know that you may not believe me, or anyone when they say you are beautiful, but you really are. It may not be in the traditional sense or aesthetically, but your spirit, the one that made you keep surviving even though you wanted death. That is beautiful. That is what anyone who is around you can see. Your spirit is bright and infectious. You are beautiful. Now you have people who love and support you. You have me, and Nat, and Shuri, and hopefully soon Steve and Bucky. We are here for you.” He says quietly.

“Sure, the two “soul mates” who won’t look at me, won’t face me and run away when I am coming to their direction. They obviously want me so much.” The sarcasm drips from my voice as I spit out the words. “Those two hate me. They can’t even look at me. I know I am ugly with my scars and my protruding ribs, but they cannot even be in the same vicinity as me.”

“I’m trying to get them to speak with you.”

“Well, stop. If they don’t want me that’s fine. I understand. I don’t want me either. Just, stop trying. I’m done waiting. I want to go home. I want to go to my little hut on the outskirts of town and sit for hours after hunting just staring at the walls because I have nothing better to do. I want to just get away from being around people all the time. At home, I was alone al the time, unless I had things to trade. I am not used to people. I may have been here for a good month, but I need time to just be alone, to just be me again and not what you all want me to be. I want to have to fight for food, to gather what I need. To fill my days with training to stave off the boredom. I need my sense of normalcy back, Sam. I am going crazy.”

Sam looks at me and nods. “Come on, let’s get you moved out of the lab and see if we can’t get you a home out by the lake somewhere.”

“Really?” I ask incredulously.

“Really.”

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Soon Sam is leading me past the castle walls and down to a clearing by the lake. There are only two huts here. I am lead to the barren one, made of packed earth and tall grasses. The fenced area attached to the hut holds two large grey wolves. I name them Fenrir and Garmr after the wolves in my people’s myths. Fenrir is the largest, with deep grey fur and bright blue eyes. He is the first to approach me, sniffing around before licking right up my face. Garmr, after Fenrir’s welcome, comes close enough to touch his light grey fur and see his soft green eyes. He too licks me. I know now that Fenrir is the Alpha. 

“They were injured at an early age and refused to go back into the wild. Shuri and I thought you would need some companionship out here so they are yours now. Both have been trained as protectors.” Sam says watching me. 

I turn to him. “Thank you, they are perfect,” I say. I cannot stop smiling, the wolves in front of me are just too precious. 

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Sam says. He drops off the bundles of my things inside and heads back to the castle. For once in my short time here, I am finally alone.

It does not last long. 

Just near nightfall, I hear two voices walking towards the huts. Grabbing a spear I made earlier while watching the wolves I make my way to the opening in my hut. Peeking out I see the Dumbbutts headed to the other hut. Slowly I step outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff hanger, I could not resist.


	8. I'm Sorry Solves All Problems

Just near nightfall, I hear two voices walking towards the huts. Grabbing a spear I made earlier while watching the wolves I make my way to the opening in my hut. Peeking out I see the Dumbbutts headed to the other hut. Slowly I step outside.

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I step past my threshold holding my spear lightly by my side. Heading over to my fence line I sit upon one of the large posts and Turn slightly to watch the boys while also appearing to be watching my wolves. Using the knife I held to both Dumbbutts necks I sit and whittle more wood away sharpening my spearpoint. My thin woolen shift barely moves in the evening breeze as Fenrir and Garmr come closer, both recognizing that there are newcomers. 

Fenrir barks at the boys scaring them both. Inside my head, I am laughing so hard, but outwardly I appear to not have noticed the two idiots near the other hut. 

“Good boy Fenrir,” I say, bending over slightly to pet his head and scratch behind his ears.

“Kara,” Steve says slowly, softly, before continuing, “What are you doing out here?”

Inwardly again I laugh. One would think that as Captain America he would have better observational skills. 

“I live here, Captain Rogers. This is my hut, and these are my wolves. Do you have a problem with that?” I say sarcastically.

“No, no problem. Um, When did you move out here?” Steve asks.

“This afternoon. The lab was getting a bit claustrophobic. I am used to living out among nature, thus I asked to move outside. Will this be a problem?”

“What Stevie here is trying to ask, doll, is if it’s going to be a problem that we live in this hut?” Bucky says laughing.

Finally, my soul marks make sense. I had been very confused as to how 'What are you doing here' turned into 'living here'. Unlike the stories Romanov has told I don’t feel sparks flying nor do I want to rush into their arms and kiss them. It’s laughable really. 

“It shan’t be a problem on my end. Will the two of you have any problem knowing that I live right here and can still beat the two of you in combat?” I smile.

Bucky bursts out in laughter. “Doll, I would pay you to take us down again. We got caught off guard the last time. It will not happen again,” Sobering he says, “Anyways, we will have no issue with you living here. It will give us a chance to get to know each other.”

I look at him with skepticism. “Do you really think that after stealing me, laughing at me, and attacking me that I want to get to know you?” I hop off of my post. “The only thing I want to do is try to find a normal life, not your normal, my normal. You took me from everything I had ever known, forced me to learn a new language, laughed at me for learning that language, attacked me while I was trying to get psychological help for the trauma you have put upon me, and now have laughed at the fact that I have finally found the ability to demand what I need. So, do you really think that you deserve to get to know me?” I rant.

They both look chastised and pitiful. “Oh, grow up. Don’t look like I just kicked your puppy when I simply told you the truth. There are consequences to your actions, at least with me. So grow a pair and take the responsibility you should have in the first place instead of foisting it off onto Shuri, Nat, and Sam. I can take care of myself now, where were you two when I couldn’t?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks quietly, “when could you not take care of yourself?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about when I first got here, didn’t speak the language and had no one but Shuri to rely on for food, shelter, or companionship. Or when you had first taken me, You could have come into my hut and explained who you were and I probably would have gone with you willingly. It is not as if I enjoyed living in the village, but no, you dumbbutts had to go about this the hard way. Make your soulmate hate you then we’ll speak to her after attacking her and insinuating that she is incapable of living alone.”

“We didn’t mean to do any of that you know.”

I interrupt, “Oh, I know. Every time you went to the lab and spoke to Shuri, I was there. Every time you have cried to Sam and complained about how I locked myself away or how you both had screwed the pooch, I heard about. The problem with talking to the only people in your soulmate's life is it’s never confidential. Unless you are in a session with Sam he has full rights to tell me everything. He has told me everything.”

“Dollface, you have to understand,” Bucky begins, “When you woke up in the car you were so scared. You were so small and so scared, it broke my heart. Your ribs poking through and looking like you had never had a decent hot meal. It was all I could do not to pick you up and hold you until you never wanted to leave my arms. When we saw you at the dinners, you never looked our way. Never made any motion of wanting to know us. It hurt that you knew what we are to you and never looked at us. When you spoke English I thought I had known why you had never looked at us. You couldn’t speak English and I snorted at that. I laughed at you and Steve hit me. Then you went off in perfect English at me and I was even more hurt at what you thought we would do to you. After speaking about it to Sam I realized that we never gave you any reason not to hate us, no reason not to think those things. I broke my own heart with the knowledge that I had pushed you away so far as to hate me. When we caught you outside of Sams office, and you were so scared that you took us both down I was so proud and so ashamed. I was so proud you could defend yourself and ashamed that it was because of us that you were so scared. I know you will never forgive us, but please, just don’t write us off. We are actually good guys, we just don’t know how to be around women.” 

“I never had a decent meal before coming here. I lived on the outskirts of town fighting to survive off of plants and what little I could hunt. You should have followed your instinct. Before Shuri, I had never been hugged. Never felt someone hold me simply for comfort. Even now I have never allowed Sam or Nat to do so. Shuri got away with it once when I asked what it is. I am not used to it, I do not like it. I have been thrust so far outside of my range of normal that I cannot even think anymore. I used to want to die, never wanted to kill myself but just wanted to die so the pain of living would be gone. Now, now I want to die to go to Hela, to be free of what you have forced upon me. I can see no reason to live any longer. I want to kill myself because I do not know how to survive. I now know how to cook and clean in this modern world, but I will never be able to get a job or afford to eat what I cannot hunt. You have taken me from a place where I could have provided for myself enough to live, to a place where unless a miracle happens I will be dependent upon someone else for the rest of my life. Which means, that if I do let you both in, and you both die in battle. You doom me to die. I have no identification number, no way of proving who I am. I cannot live without assistance any longer, and you have the audacity to say that it is because you don’t know how to be around women?”

“We never thought of it that away.” Steve says downcast, “I am truly sorry for what we have placed upon you. We will take care of you during life and after death. Everything we have is yours. Even if you won’t have us.”

I am taken aback at this. That is not what I expected. I thought they would be yelling at me to get with the program or to grow up, not sit there and take what I hurl at them. 

“I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you for that. As such I have made a rash decision I know I will regret, however, you have two weeks to gain my friendship in any way you think possible or plausible. At the end of two weeks if I think that you both are the good men that everyone tells me you are, then I will allow you to take me on a …date. If I find that I don’t think that you are good men, then I will find a way to get back home and have myself sacrificed to Odin. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” They both say in tandem. 

Nodding I head back inside my hut and lay on the raised sleeping palette sighing and mentally cursing myself for falling for their charms. I lay there staring at the ceiling until I fall asleep, unaware of what tomorrow will bring.


End file.
